


Caffeine and Deadlines

by Angel Ascending (angel_in_ink)



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Anxiety, Cuddles, Finals, Fluff, No Actual Drug Use But Special Brownies Are Mentioned, Other, Prompt Fill, Sleep Deprivation, Synesthesia, The Wonders Of Caffeine, Whump Fic Bingo, this prompt got out of hand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 07:53:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17935808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angel_in_ink/pseuds/Angel%20Ascending
Summary: Both Caleb and Molly have papers due in two hours. They haven't slept in three days but hey, that's what coffee is for, right?





	Caffeine and Deadlines

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StupidPoetry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StupidPoetry/gifts).



> Written for the prompt "Chugging caffeine to avoid the inevitable crash." 
> 
> Thank you to @stupid-poetry for prompting this and then gleefully listening to my ideas and suggesting some of her own, such as Caleb hearing colors! Love you! Hope you're feeling better!
> 
> Also dedicated to anyone going through finals week! You can get through this! Take care of yourselves!

Caleb and Molly’s dorm room is usually a study in contrasts, Caleb’s books lined up neatly in the bookcase where Molly’s are strewn in piles, open and facing downward, Molly’s feather boas draped over chairs while Caleb’s ties hang neatly next to his shirts. But it’s finals week, and the dorm room is a chaotic mess, as is Caleb himself, clothes wrinkled and hair wild. He hasn’t slept in three days, unless you count the 20 minute nap he’d had two days ago at the library, when he had fallen asleep standing up while looking for the last book he had needed for his comparative magic paper. He had aced the practical exam, that had never been in question, but he had a twenty-page paper due at midnight tonight. Normally it would have been a non-issue, he excelled at writing papers with a speed and ease that both Molly and Fjord expressed jealously towards, but some of his crucial writing time had been eaten up by his chronic migraines. Other professors would have been understanding. Professor Ikithon was not one of them, and Caleb knew it. There was a joke that the Professor wouldn’t even grant an extension for a family death unless you provided a signed note from the corpse and a picture of yourself next to the casket.

Molly had left his literature paper until the last minute because he was a born procrastinator for starters, and because reading was so _boring_ and writing about what he had read was boring _and_ tedious _and_ a struggle. He hadn’t slept in three days either, same as Caleb, but that was more of his, “I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” attitude as opposed to anything else. Why sleep when he could be clubbing, or stargazing with Yasha, or literally _anything_? He had spent all of yesterday helping Caduceus with his side business, or perhaps it was his side side business. The firbolg was supplementing his scholarship and putting his odd sleep schedule to work by selling and delivering fresh baked goods to the other students on campus. Business was always good, because sometimes all you needed at 3am were warm chocolate chip cookies, but it was Caduceus’s “not so secret” menu that was very much in demand during finals week.

Nott was also raking in the cash this week, due to something she had been fiddling with in the chemistry lab in her spare time. It was coffee that had gone through several mystical extraction processes until not only had it had become the blackest black but was also super caffeinated. She had left a flask of it with Caleb, with strict instructions that he only drink it from a shot glass, and even then, sparingly. Caleb had thrown back three shots of the stuff in a panic two days ago after the library nap incident. He was pretty sure he could hear colors now.

Molly had been there when Nott had warned Caleb about the coffee’s strength and had waited a full five seconds after she had left to go fetch his favorite mug (“Leave them in the bottom of the grave they dug for you,” it read on the side) and had poured himself a cup. He had had a conversation with several gods afterwards. He wasn’t positive which ones, only that they had talked about the meaning of life for at least an hour, and he had sampled their divine cuisine.

(Yasha had been very confused by Molly sprawling at her feet and asking her whether cheesecake was a cake or a pie. Caduceus had been consulted. Cheesecake had been consumed, but no clear answers had been found.)

It was 10 pm, and Caleb was typing at a feverish pace, jaw clenched so tightly it ached, fingers stuttering across the keys as his thoughts outstripped his ability to type. He was thinking about what he had written, what he was writing at the moment, and what he was going to write all at once, while also panicking about what would happen to his grade if he didn’t finish in time. His stomach churned as his heart slammed in his chest at triple time. Five more pages. Five more pages and then he’d be done and he could sleep for a thousand years, assuming his heart didn’t explode first.

Molly was typing away on his laptop gleefully, with occasional pauses to giggle and spin in his desk chair. Usually writing was so _hard,_ like his thoughts had to travel a million miles to get out of his head and onto the page. His thoughts were so very _fast_ now, and all of them were brilliant! He was so going to ace this paper! Life was fantastic!

“Nott is a genius!” Molly crows, tail tapping against his chair. “I’m also a genius! And you are a super genius, but you knew that, because you’re a genius. And not only are you a genius, but you’re dating me, which speaks to your good taste as well!”

Caleb keeps typing, though mostly he's hitting the backspace key, his fingers tripping over themselves. “I need you to stop being so magenta,” Caleb says through gritted teeth. Magenta was jagged, intrusive, a disruption. His voice sounds yellow to his own ears, the hiss of acid eating away at metal, or at his sanity, or the lining of his stomach. When had he last eaten, anyway?

“Sorry,” Molly says as if Caleb had made perfect sense. “I didn’t mean to be magenta.”

Caleb pauses for a precious few seconds before running his hand over his face. “Loud. I need you to stop being loud.”

“Ah.” Molly grabs his own tail to keep it under control. “Sorry.”

Caleb doesn’t reply, just begins typing again, tears pricking at his eyes, his shoulders hunched around his ears. He’s an asshole. He’s an asshole and Molly hates him now. Molly hates him and they’re going to break up and he’s going to die old and alone with Frumpkin, except Frumpkin probably hates him too for not paying attention to him much this week.

(Frumpkin, who loves his wizard very much, is keeping Caleb’s pillow warm for him, and resisting the urge to go over to the computer and flop across the keyboard. Frumpkin doesn’t like the computer right now. The computer makes Caleb upset.)

Molly finishes his paper at 11:30 and shoots Caleb a look of gleeful triumph only to realize that Caleb has stopped typing and is staring at the computer with tears running down his face.

“Oh no,” Molly says quietly, shoving himself away from his desk, his chair rolling across the floor for maximum speed. “Caleb, what’s wrong? What happened? You didn’t lose your paper, did you?”

“It’s shit,” Caleb says, staring at the computer, unable to look Molly in the eye. “It’s shit, and I’m going to fail class, and get expelled, and end up living alone in a box with Frumpkin on the street, and I’m an asshole and you hate me and—“

“Oh boy, okay, there’s a lot going on there and it’s all wrong,” Molly says quickly. “May I touch you?”

Caleb bites his lip and nods. Molly reaches out and rubs Caleb’s shoulders, the muscles under his hand like guitar strings that were strung too tight.

“First of all, you are not an asshole and I love you like the moon loves the sky,” Molly says softly. “So there’s that.”

Caleb’s shoulders relax a fraction.

“Secondly, I am sure your paper is brilliant.” Molly’s eyes skim over the page on display. “I don’t understand any of it, which means it’s probably A+ material.”

“Trent doesn’t give out A’s,” Caleb says softly.

“Trent is an asshole,” Molly says firmly. Frumpkin meows from the bed in what Molly takes as agreement. “Is your paper finished?”

Caleb nods. “I just have to send it.”

“You do that, and I’ll get us something to eat, okay? We’re going to eat, and relax, and maybe even sleep.”

“Sleep,” Caleb says wistfully. “I remember sleep.” He wipes at his eyes and sends his paper to his professor, hands shaking as he hits the send button.

Molly taps out a quick text to Caduceus and dims the lights in the room. Frumpkin has an instant to leap out of the way before Caleb flops down onto the bed like a puppet whose strings have been cut, and Molly goes back to rubbing his shoulders.

“Will you visit me in my cardboard box?” Caleb mumbles into the pillow.

“I will _live_ in your cardboard box,” Molly says cheerfully. “I’ll read fortunes and save up enough money so that we can afford a double-wide box, and we shall throw magnificent parties.” He stroked Caleb’s hair. “You know our friends would never let that happen, right? Hells, Nott can probably afford rent on an apartment with all the money she’s making off that coffee. She needs to patent it or something."

A knock at the door ten minutes later interrupts Molly and Caleb brainstorming names for Nott’s brew. Molly lets Caduceus in, the firbolg smiling as usual and laden down with several bags. “Caduceus, you’re a lifesaver.”

“One post-finals victory feast for two,” Caduceus says with a chuckle as he starts unpacking the bags. “One case of bottled water, one thermos of sleepy tea, two cucumber and hummus sandwiches, and two orders of triple chocolate brownies, which I double checked and clearly marked this time.” He grins sheepishly. “I’m still very sorry about last time.”

“We all learned a valuable lesson,” Molly says sagely. “What do I owe you?”

Caduceus waves a hand dismissively. “On the house.”

Molly gives him a look. “Caduceus, you know how I feel about that. You pay me for my work, you need to be paid for yours.” He counts out several bills and pushes them into Caduceus’s large hand.

“If it’ll make you happy,” Caduceus says with a smile. He gestures towards Caleb. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s crashing,” Molly says quietly. “Overtired, over emotional—.”

“I’m fine,” Caleb says, managing to lift his head from the pillow slightly. “You are both being very pink right now.”

“—Experiencing sounds as colors. Or colors as sounds, I’m not sure.” Molly continues.

“Oh hey, I know how that is,” Caduceus says brightly. “You take care of him, all right?” He looks past Molly. “Caleb? You take care of Molly. And stay hydrated, both of you. I’ve got to run, I’m in between batches of cookies.”

“Thanks again, Caduceus,” Molly says as he closes the door.

Caleb manages to roll over onto his back and sits up with a groan as he accepts the sandwich Molly hands him. “I’m sorry I said you were being magenta earlier.”

Molly waves his tail dismissively as he sits on the bed. Caleb immediately leans back against him. “No, you were right, I was definitely being magenta.” His own sandwich is next to him on the bed, he’ll get to it in a minute.

“You’re purple now,” Caleb says between bites of sandwich. “Purple is good.”

“I should hope so,” Molly says with a chuckle. “What does purple sound like?”

Caleb feels himself blushing. Purple sounds like Molly’s laugh, and the way he purrs when he’s happy. “You,” he says simply. “Purple sounds like you.”

(Molly’s professor gives Molly a B- on his paper, with a note that says that it was “The most entertaining bullshit I’ve ever read.” Caleb gets an A-, the first A ever given out in the entire history of Professor Trent’s teaching career. Caleb faints dead away when grades are posted. They celebrate with cheesecake.)

**Author's Note:**

> Totally based on my experiences with caffeine, minus the hearing colors thing. I get either really anxious after my second cup of coffee or life becomes AMAZING. Or I take a nap. It's total roulette.
> 
> Molly's coffee mug exists, it's from voidmerch and I love it.
> 
> I'm angel-ascending on Tumblr and and angel_in_ink on Twitter if y'all want to stop by and say hi!


End file.
